


what's a man to do?

by kinneyb



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-11-23 04:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: After Quentin dies (or something, he's still not sure), he wakes up back at Brakebills. The only thing is everything--and everyone--is now wildly different and no one remembers him. Great, even death can't be easy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> please check out my Twitter: coldwaugh
> 
> some penny/q but they are not endgame queliot is hehe also umm in this alternative timeline there's no canon typical violence or any of that bc i said so

Quentin wakes up and it's warm and dark and smells like--grass. He shifts, groans at the pain that starts in his lower back and moves up, attacking his shoulders. God, he was getting too old for this.

Then he remembers: oh, right, he's dead.

He moves through the pain and scrubs a hand over his face. He was dead. At least he'd died while protecting his friends. Right? For some reason the thought isn't comforting, not really.

Slowly, he sits up.

He's still in the same clothes. Reaching up, he touches his hair and--oh, that is different. It's long again, and when he shakes his head some strands fall into his eyes.

Quentin looks around and realizes he's tucked away under some bushes. Magic is dancing through the air.

He blinks, once.

The Underworld was fucking weird.

"Hello?" he calls. Scrunching his nose up, he crawls out from under the bushes, ignoring the sharp pain in his back, and freezes when he sees it: Brakebills in the distance. "What the fuck," he whispers.

Then he sees something else just as shocking: Julia, except she's curled up as she walks, hugging a stack of books to her chest.

She looks... _wrong_, nothing like herself.

Quentin scrambles to his feet. "Julia," he yells.

She startles and almost drops her books. Quentin rushes over, limping a little. Julia stares at his leg, then his face.

"Jules," he breathes, chest expanding with relief. "I--I don't know how, but I'm here."

Julia stares at him with wide eyes. "Who are you?" she asks, ducking her head suddenly. "I'm sorry. I--I think you have the wrong person."

Quentin blinks. Once, twice. Then he laughs sharply and reaches for her arm, which she quickly and violently pulls out of reach.

"Don't touch me," she says. "Creep."

Quentin watches, speechless, as Julia storms off. Oh, this was--something was not right. He turns and runs for Henry's office, up the stairs and through the doors.

He runs down the halls, turning and weaving, barely avoiding random students. He halts in front of Henry's door and quickly takes down his wards before bursting through it, panting.

"I need--"

But it's not Henry sitting at the desk.

"Zelda?" he asks, barely above a whisper.

Zelda smiles brightly, politely. "I don't believe we've met before," she says, standing up. "But I applaud you for being able to take down my wards so easily." She nods. "Our globes must've missed you." She puts a hand to her chest, over her heart. "A shame, truly, but you're here now, at least."

What the actual fuck?

"Firstly," he says, putting a finger in the air, "we most definitely have met before. Secondly," he lifts another finger, "where the fuck is Henry Fogg?"

That terrible, annoying smile stays on Zelda's face. "Who?" she asks, shuffling around the desk. "Please, sit."

Quentin stares at her, eyes hardening. "What's going on? Is this--some sick trick?" He presses his lips together. "Is this... Hell?" he asks, quiet and maybe, admittedly, a little scared of the answer.

"Darling, please. I'm giving you a special chance here," she explains, folding her hands together. "Let me look you over and... maybe I can make a spot for you here, at--"

Quentin narrows his eyes. "Brakebills, yeah, I got it." But--what should he do? Stay, or go? Would he be more likely to find answers here or somewhere else? The city? No... he was dropped here for a reason, probably.

He takes a deep breath and roughly pulls his fingers through his hair. "Okay," he says, plopping in one of the chairs. "Go on, do your thing," he says, gesturing impatiently.

Zelda looks confused for just a second before she nods and leans against the desk, making a square with her fingers and looking him over. She hums, softly.

"This is... interesting," she mutters.

Quentin stiffens. "What?" he asks, slowly.

Zelda drops her hands and smiles brightly. "You're just... very advanced, for someone of your age," she explains. "A good thing, of course. Here," she turns away and digs something out of a drawer. When she turns back, she points at the bottom. "Sign the bottom, and you'll officially be a Brakebills student."

He opens his mouth. "I--"

"Right," she laughs, handing him a pen.

Quentin smiles tightly and signs the bottom. Zelda beams and folds the paper. "Congratulations, Mr. Coldwater," she says.

He huffs out a laugh. "Yay," he says blandly.

/

This time around his Discipline was easily decided upon, and he was told he'd be staying with the Physical Kids. Quentin's heart leaps at that. Eliot. Margo. God, maybe they would be able to help him.

So, as soon as he's out of Zelda's office, he runs for the Cottage, nearly tripping over himself on the way.

Then he sees it, tucked away in the distance, and nearly sobs.

He runs up and reaches for the door--

"Don't!"

Quentin stops, stumbling, and turns. Walking toward him is-- "Alice," he breathes.

She looks the same in terms of hair, still fairly short and blond, framing her face. But that's where the similarities ended. Her lips are painted a bright red, and she's wearing a pair of jeans under a flowy pink top.

Quentin groans.

"You can't touch the door," she says. "It'll shock you. You're a newbie, right?"

He nods sharply. Right, he had somehow forgotten. Margo and Eliot with their cruel pranks. He couldn't wait to see them.

"I'll help, just don't tell them, okay?" Alice says brightly, moving her hands gracefully. "There you go. You should be good now."

Quentin could not remember the last time he saw Alice with such a bright and open smile on her face. His heart ached with it.

"Thanks," he says softly. "Um. Did you--"

"Alice," a woman's voice rings out, and then Kady is appearing at Alice's side, straight hair flowing over her shoulders. She's wearing a black skirt and red top, a baggy cardigan pulled over it. And, most shockingly, she's smiling brightly.

Quentin stares. She looked so--_nice_.

"Hey," Alice greets before leaning up and pecking her on the lips.

Fuck.

Quentin smiles awkwardly.

"Maybe we can all hang out together later," Alice suggests, smiling at Quentin, before she takes Kady's hand and walks off with her.

Quentin slowly turns and opens the door. He, thankfully, does not get shocked. On top of that, the Cottage miraculously looks the same, the couch is still there, the shelves of books and alcohol. His eyes burn with relief. Maybe he's moving in the right direction.

Then Todd comes barreling down the stairs, and Quentin groans. He looks annoyingly like Eliot with a tight shirt and vest, curls falling in his face.

"You're the new kid, I'm assuming," he remarks, looking him over. He shrugs, the corner of his mouth quirking. "You're not _that_ cute," he mutters.

Quentin pointedly ignores his comment. "How do you know about me?" he asks, maybe just a little hopefully.

Todd rolls his eyes. "Zelda called and told me. Want a drink?" he asks casually as he walks over and behind the tiny bar on wheels, already starting up a pair of drinks.

Quentin takes a deep, slow breath. "Where's Eliot?" he asks. "Margo?"

Todd looks up, an odd expression on his face. "What could you possibly want with those two dorks?" he asks, somewhat genuinely.

Oh, shit.

Quentin smiles tightly. "Just--curious," he says.

Todd shrugs again and nods at the stairs. "They're probably upstairs, cuddled together and watching some stupid movie in Margo's room."

Quentin nods and takes off up the stairs, rounding the corner and running to Margo's room. He knocks frantically.

He's jittery, impatient, but eventually the door opens and he feels--very brief relief to know Margo and Eliot are both okay, at least. Eliot is still on the bed, a laptop balanced on his thighs, while Margo is the one who answered the door.

Unsurprisingly, they look different.

Eliot's hair is messy, longer, almost like--he shakes away images of the Monster. He's in a baggy shirt and sweatpants. Margo isn't much different, her hair is messily pulled back and she's in a shirt that's probably Eliot's judging by the size and a pair of shorts. Her face is bare, beautiful still but so different from the real Margo. Or, well, the Margo he knew and loved, anyway.

Quentin grins sheepishly. "Hi?"

Margo blushes and scrambles back, and oh. She's definitely _much_ different. "Um. Who--who are you? Do you need something?"

He quickly shakes his head. "No, no, I'm just... new, you could say." His eyes flicker over to Eliot. "Thought I should introduce myself. I'm Quentin."

Eliot finally pushes the laptop out of his lap and stands up. Apparently, some things never change because he walks over and wraps an arm around Margo, protectively.

"Eliot," he says. "This is Margo."

Quentin nods. "Um, I--okay. What are you guys doing?" he asks lamely. Because what else is he supposed to do? He can't just tell them everything right off the bat.

Eliot narrows his eyes, and maybe he's not so different from the real--_his_\--Eliot after all. "Watching something. Seriously, do you need anything?"

Quentin stiffens. He remembers, briefly, back in the day how intimidating Eliot had been, but that was so long ago and he hadn't felt that way in a long, long time. He swallows around the lump in his throat.

"No," he squeaks.

Eliot nods and grabs the door. "Okay, then if you don't mind..." he trails off, raising both eyebrows. Quentin nods curtly and shuffles back, and watches as the door closes in his face.

This was going to be a lot harder than he originally thought, huh? Sighing, he slumps against the door and rubs at his eyes. Okay, he can do this. He just needed--some rest first, preferably.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> insert...... penny! reminder queliot will be endgame but there will be brief penny/q
> 
> check out the pinned Tweet on my Twitter (@ coldwaugh )

Quentin slowly walks back down the stairs and spots Todd, still in the living area, nursing a glass of--something. He walks over and Todd smirks.

"Here," he says, extending it as an offering.

Quentin sighs and sits down, accepting it and taking a long sip.

"You okay?" he asks.

Quentin huffs out a laugh. "Not really," he admits before quickly continuing, "it's nothing you can help me with, sadly."

Todd watches him for a moment before nodding. Quentin stands up and yawns, stretching. "Which room is mine?"

"Last room on the left."

Quentin nods and takes a deep breath. Sleep first. He could (hopefully) fix things later. "Goodnight, Todd," he says.

He trudges up the stairs and walks to the--his--room. He opens the door and stares at the empty room, an unexpected longing in his chest.

He wanted to be back at the loft with Kady and the others. Wanted all his stuff, his books, his stupid collection of black t-shirts. This was all wrong.

Sniffing, he shakes his head and walks over, sitting on the bed. He needs to--go out into the city and buy stuff, apparently. The essentials, at least. A toothbrush, more clothes.

Quentin rubs his eyes. Tomorrow, he decides.

/

Quentin wakes up and spends a couple hours in bed, just--thinking, a little disappointed this all hadn't been a dream, honestly. Finally, he crawls out of bed and washes his face with water in the bathroom.

He reaches for his toothbrush before remembering, right, he doesn't have one. He really needed to go shopping.

The whole thing was absurd, really.

He was--somewhere, lost and confused and lonely, and here he was thinking about toothbrushes. Shaking his head, he opens the door and startles at the sight of Margo.

She looks so much younger, more innocent. The horrors of the world have touched her, maybe, but not yet destroyed her. Quentin pushes down the pain he feels seeing her, and smiles.

"Sorry, I'm done," he says, stepping out of the way.

Margo watches him for a moment before finally looking away and entering the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Quentin stares at the door for an embarrassing amount of time before he eventually sighs and walks off, down the stairs and into the living area. Todd is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Eliot (sadly, he thinks dimly).

Walking over, he sits on the couch.

Julia used to always say he would never be alone, because she would always be there for him, no matter what. Well, she probably never even dreamed of this as a possibility, to be fair.

Quentin tips his head back and stares up at the ceiling.

He's been sitting there for an hour probably when the front door opens. Someone--Todd, he realizes--whistles before walking over.

"Didn't peg you as a bad student," he admits.

Quentin turns his head and stares at him. "What?"

Todd stares back. "You've missed, like, most of your classes, dude. Ballsy, even for me."

He bristles and sits up. "Fuck," he breathes.

It'd been so long since he'd been a student.

"No worries," Todd says, waving his hand. "You'll be fine. Just go tomorrow, huh?" Quentin quickly nods then watches as Todd grabs a bottle of something and heads up the stairs, already taking a swig.

So much like Eliot.

Quentin's eyes burn and he closes them, letting his head fall back again. A nap couldn't hurt, right? He would go shopping later. Then he'd work on figuring things out. He yawns softly. One step at a time, he thinks before he slowly starts drifting off.

Quentin wakes up to the sound of--something. He slowly sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes, glancing toward the noise with a yawn.

He startles when he realizes it's Eliot. He's behind the bar, preparing drinks.

Eliot looks up as his tiny gasp and presses his lips together. "You have a room, you know," he says, a bit gruff.

Quentin grins sheepishly. "Sorry."

Sighing, Eliot grabs another glass from under the bar. "Don't tell Todd about this, okay?" he says once he's finished preparing both drinks and walks over. "He doesn't like other people using his shit."

Quentin accepts one of the drinks and nods. "Yes, sir," he says.

Eliot pauses for a second. Then he laughs and sits down, taking a sip of his drink. "So, Margo hasn't stopped talking about you."

Quentin stiffens. "Yeah?"

"She thinks you're cute," he remarks casually.

Quentin can't help feeling sad that Eliot doesn't sound jealous, not even a little bit. But that's--logical, right? He doesn't even know Quentin, and even before, Eliot had turned him down. But he was hoping after they saved Eliot, maybe...

"That's... nice," he replies awkwardly, picking at a loose strand hanging from his shirt.

Maybe, a long time ago, when he was young and had just met Margo, he would've been interested if not overwhelmed, but now there's no potential for anything there.

Not to mention, he has his eyes on--Quentin's eyes flicker to Eliot's face as he gulps.

"Hey, uh, I need to go shopping tonight--"

Eliot stands up. "I can lend you a portal spell," he says, casual still, as he finishes his drink and walks over, setting it back on the cart. "I'll leave it in your room."

Before Quentin can say anything else, Eliot has disappeared up the stairs. He frowns and looks away, down into the golden liquid of his drink. Right, well, that was pretty much what he'd been expecting.

/

Quentin doesn't end up going shopping. He realizes, not surprisingly, that's he's spiraling. Which was already common for him, considering his problems, but even the most mentally healthy person would probably spiral after being thrown into another timeline with no idea how to get back to their friends and family.

Though in Quentin's case, he didn't really have a family.

But he did consider a lot of his friends to he family, to be fair. Like Julia and Margo and Eliot. Even Kady in a weird way, like a cool older sister you're kind of intimidated by.

So he ends up just trudging back up the stairs and going to sleep.

When he wakes up, it's early in the morning and he really debates just skipping again. Really, what was the point? If he was lucky, he'd be out of here soon.

But then Todd knocks on his door.

"Wake upppp," he sings.

Quentin groans and throws a pillow at the door.

After a few more minutes, he's finally dragged himself out of bed. He's still wearing the same clothes, of course, but he's able to clean them with a bit of magic, at least.

Quentin washes his face and makes a note that today he had to get a toothbrush, because magic only helped so much and he was getting a terrible taste in his mouth.

He trudges down the stairs and is somewhat relieved to see the living area is empty.

He's not really in the mood for talking.

He brushes his hair out of his face and puts it up (it'd been a while since he had such long hair.) Satisfied, he sweeps out of the Cottage and breathes in the cool morning air.

Quentin pulls out his schedule, which Zelda had given him earlier, and squints. It was different from his prior schedule, but not by much. He started off in the right direction.

He enters his first class of the day and ducks down, rushing to a chair in the back. Sighing softly, Quentin leans back and looks around, a bit curious, startling when he notices who's sitting to his left.

Penny.

Quentin swallows around the lump in his throat and curtly looks away.

The professor starts talking, and he pays attention like a good student.

The class ends after about half an hour and Quentin jumps to his feet.

"Hey."

Quentin looks up and blinks.

Penny is standing in front of him and he looks so much like himself, an open, purple vest and brown pants. Nothing like the Penny they'd gotten stuck with before he left. Quentin can't help the fond smile that blooms across his face.

Thankfully, Penny doesn't look deterred or grossed out. Actually, he's watching Quentin with a smirk.

"What are you doing after class?" Penny asks.

What?

Quentin opens his mouth. "What?" he blurts.

Penny raises a dark eyebrow. "If you're not interested, just tell me," he says, surprisingly casual, "and I'll gladly fuck off."

"No!" he answers quickly. Finally, things were looking up. He'd finally found a friend. In Penny, sure, but life was full of surprises. He smiles sheepishly. "I'm uh, I was gonna go shopping after class."

Penny smiles back. Quentin isn't sure he's ever seen him smile so brightly--at him, at least. "In the city?"

He nods mutely.

"Mind if I tag along?"

Quentin blinks. Once, twice. "Sure," he answers eventually, feeling a little lighter. Maybe Penny could help him.

"I'll meet you after class in front of the fountain?" Penny offers.

He nods quickly and watches as Penny sweeps out of the room. Quentin attends his next few classes and finds himself actually feeling a bit better. Penny was smart. An asshole, but nevertheless intelligent. Maybe if they got close enough, he could confess his secret and he could help.


End file.
